Frabjous Day
by Sare Liz
Summary: What if Alice had stayed? Alice/Hatter, Movieverse
1. A Kiss for the Hero of the Day

**Title**: The Frabjous Day  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Universe**: Alice in Wonderland; Tim Burton Movie  
**Beta: ** Colleen. She just rocks. And apparently it was the squee heard round the world when I sent it to her. :)  
**Disclaimer**: Were you confused about this? No, it's not mine. Though it's possible that Alice is now in the public domain, I happen to know that Johnny Depp isn't, so let's just say that I'm playing in the sandboxes of others and leave it at that, shall we? More tea?

**Rating:** M is for momeraths outgabing, miracles, mastectomies, more tea, and of course... mad hatters. Or just the one, in particular.

**Chapter One**: A Kiss for the Hero of the Day

***

"You... could... _stay."_

I looked into the widest, most vibrant green eyes in all of all the combined worlds and my resolve to go home faltered. It was a mad and wonderful idea and more tempting than words could say. Time ran differently here. I could possibly stay a bit and not be missed overmuch. There was no rush, after all. It wasn't as if I was required to leave immediately upon slaying the jabberwocky.

I tried to form the words as I looked into his eyes framed by the surprisingly beguiling orange sparkled lashes in the ridiculously painted face of his. A mad hatter, indeed.

"I, well. I suppose. For a little while."

"A little while?" he said, his face seeming to glow in a way I'd not yet witnessed.

"A very little while," I said, hedging. But the Hatter held out the crook of his arm for an escort, and though I didn't know where he meant to lead us, I placed my hand on the inside of his forearm, just below his elbow.

He had left his claymore on the battlefield, but he still cut quite a figure in his kilt and sporran. Now that the heat of the fray was left behind, I was trying not to concentrate too hard on the way he was dressed, or the memory of his voice when he would occasionally adopt a northern accent.

We strolled along, through the crowds, neither one of us talking. For all of his mad speech, and occasional bouts of lucidity, we had already spent long swaths of time together in silence when I had been riding his hat. Granted, at that point I was pondering my muchness or lack thereof, but still, the silence was not uncomfortable with him. This was a marked difference from the other ginger headed man in my life, Hamish, which brought my mind around to...

"Have you ever flown?

"Why yes, of course. Once involuntarily in the claws of the jubjub bird, and twice on my own."

"What was it like?" I asked, filled with curiosity.

"Lovelier and lovelier each time."

I smiled smugly. I had guessed as much and was more than content to have my suspicions confirmed.

By now I realized we were heading back to the White Queen's castle, which made a certain amount of sense. And that was odd for it to do so, but I continued on, unquestioning. I should, after all, like to get out of this armor and perhaps have a bath. And perhaps something to eat that would not alter my dress size.

"Could you possibly define for me your exact intentions by using the adjective 'little' to modify the admittedly ambiguous length-of-time noun 'while'?"

His question was out of the blue, but it didn't phase me. Nothing the man said really did. He was like my father, really, only younger, more colorful, and less restrained. I had never known Father, for instance, to wear teal, or orange.

"Little as opposed to long, a time that is significant enough to warrant attention, and yet short enough to leave before your welcome is worn."

"So that is your intention, then, to stay so long as you are welcome and not a moment more?"

"I suppose so, yes."

I glanced over as the hatter cleared his throat slightly. It made me think of glasses of water, which made me think that I should like quite a few of them, and possibly a bath, and that this mad hatter might as well, but then I thought ridiculous and scandalous things that made me blush.

"You would always be welcome, I should think," he said, staring straight ahead as we ambled on. It really was quite a walk when one was strolling leisurely and not riding a slightly-less frumious than usual bandersnatch.

"No, no, not always, I shouldn't," I demurred as I wondered how far the generosity of the obviously peace-loving White Queen would go, given that she also seemed to have a penchant for necromancy.

"How about forever, then?" he asked, and it sounded like his throat caught. His pitch was unusually high, as well.

"I'm sure forever would be far too long," I said, thinking that surely Underland time would not be so elastic as to allow me to return to any sort of world I knew at that point.

"A few days short, then?" He glanced over quickly to me and as I was perusing him in that moment, I caught his quick lopsided smile before he turned his head again to look at the road we travelled. "A while, you see, be it long or short or bent into a U is not nearly enough time."

My hand tightened on his arm involuntarily and my breath caught. "Enough time for what?"

I stopped, then, or he did, but there we were, alone on the road, surrounded only by the quiet of nature. We were facing each other and my hand, once on his forearm was now clutching the arm of his morning jacket, only much higher up on the sleeve.

"Alice. Valiant and lovely wielder of the vorpal blade, would you... am I too bold to inquire if it might be possible... that is, shall I kiss you?"

His eyes were mesmerizing and I felt them pull me closer and closer, and my breathing became deeper as well. "Yes," I said softly, my voice full of air.

He relaxed then, but did not move.

And did not move.

And did not move.

And did not move.

"Well aren't you going to kiss me?" I asked, admittedly confused.

"Oh, right. Yes, of course."

He was so tall that when he leaned in to me, even though I was looking up, first he came to my forehead. I could almost feel his lips, and certainly his breath, for he breathed in deeply, but murmured, "No." Slowly moving, he stopped at my nose and did the same - breathed in deeply, but then murmured, "No." He did the same at my lips and when I whined a little I saw the smile crinkle the sides of his brilliant eyes, even as his lids were half closed. Purple adorned the right lid and teal the left, but it worked for him. I wondered if he put it on himself, or if the dormouse helped.

Then he came even closer, but veered off to my left and I felt the brim of his hat brush by my ear just before I felt his hot breath. I blushed to think of how much I had been sweating in my efforts to vanquish to the jabberwocky, and certainly the back of my neck was ripe with it, but this seemed not to bother him at all. Instead I heard what to all perception must have been a sigh of contentment. Then things happened so quickly.

His left arm bent and held my own steady, though I certainly hadn't planned on letting go of his sleeve any time soon. His right hand found my other, and our fingers tangled together. We held on to one another tightly, in this fashion. His lips brushed tender kisses down my neck, and I found it suddenly quite impossible to breathe. As his lips began their return journey I felt the slick, wet, velvet heat of his tongue, darting, tasting, reducing my mental capacity to that of a gnat. I might have moaned and most certainly shivered, but at least I gasped which was just as well, as I needed air and hadn't been breathing.

"Marzipan," I heard him murmur, but it made no sense to me.

He kissed a trail back down again, the same path that was now scorched into my flesh and just before he reached my armor he paused, and licked broadly. I felt my knees tremble as I gasped the only name I had for him, _"Hatter!"_

"Yes, love?" he murmured just before his lips closed on my skin with an open mouth. He sucked then, his tongue teasing the bit of skin and he teased without mercy, and suddenly I just felt molten, and it was good that he had such a firm grip on my arm. I staggered against him, but he did not stop his delectable, fiery kiss. My head felt light and my body heavy, but my skin was alive, more alive than it had ever, ever been, and there was a strange and delicious curling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted more, but the armor was unyielding.

Still, the hatter continued.

Sensation compounded upon itself and it felt as if he were sucking all of the good and dormant things within me up to the surface and with each swirl and flick of his tongue my gasping breaths became harsher, my fingers clutching him stronger, and every muscle in my body growing tighter and tenser, tenser and tighter, swirling and building and growing. His tongue danced its forbidden, succulent dance as his mouth sucked me deeper, harder, more fully, more completely until I finally, simply burst.

I screamed as every muscle in my body clenched. The most surreal and delicious sensation washed over me, but my eyes were so tightly clenched shut that all I saw was a bright blinding white. I was hot and sweating all over again, and panting, but I felt so _good,_ so delightfully wonderful and the light and tender kisses that he rained on my neck, up and down, up and down cemented my adoration for this strange and heroic creature who had sacrificed his life for mine twice, now.

"Stay," he whispered gently in my ear, his voice an octave lower as he used his northern accent, as he held me, now around my waist, though I could only feel the most vague of pressures, diffused as it was by my plate armor. My hands were clutching the lapels of his coat and with only a turn of my head, my face was buried the the riot of his bright ginger hair which smelled strangely and delightfully of elderberries.

"Yes," I said softly.

"With me," he added in a low rumble, nipping gently at my ear once, then twice.

"Yes," I said, smiling.

"Forever."

"No."

He pulled back. "Alice." He said my name in a plaintive tone and his entire face participated in his pout. He tugged me closer to him.

"Hatter," I replied, mimicking his tone.

"One day shy?" he asked, taking one of his hands from around me and pulling one of my own hands off his jacket. He held my hand in his, kissing and sucking the fingertips one by one as I internally debated the merits of bargaining. One day shy of forever wouldn't make much of a difference. An entire fortnight would be required for that, but what did it matter, now?

"Yes," I finally agreed.

His shockingly white face sported the most delightful smile and suddenly I found myself being swung around his exultant form.

"Callooh, callay, you _are_ the right Alice, you are, you are, _you are!" _

I couldn't resist joining into his laughter. His happiness was completely contagious, and when I pressed my lips against his, we were both still smiling.

*End chapter *

* * *

_**End Notes: **_So. What do you make of it? You know, I adore feedback, like Hatter adores tea. It's always time for feedback. So, you know... just clickity-click on those green words below and let me know what you think. Gracias.

**_Edit:_** Notice it's different from the first time around? I made continuity edits. So it goes.


	2. What's in a Name?

**Title**: The Frabjous Day  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Universe**: Alice in Wonderland; Tim Burton Movie  
**Beta: ** Colleen. She just rocks. And apparently it was the squee heard round the world when I sent it to her. :)  
**Disclaimer**: Were you confused about this? No, it's not mine. Though it's possible that Alice is now in the public domain, I happen to know that Johnny Depp isn't, so let's just say that I'm playing in the sandboxes of others and leave it at that, shall we? More tea?

**Rating:** M is for momeraths outgabing, miracles, mastectomies, more tea, and of course... mad hatters. Or just the one, in particular.

**Chapter Two: **What's in a name?

* * *

"What do I call you?" I asked as we neared the castle grounds, my hand now firmly in his as we walked.

"What a singularly odd question, even for you, little Alice. Why, you call me Hatter, of course. Even I've noticed _that."_

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "No, I mean, what _should_ I call you?"

"Should, could, would, won't, can't, shant, will call. What do you _want_ to call me?"

"Well, by your name, of course."

"Of course, she says, as if that were an obvious thing," the hatter said to no one in particular.

"Names mean everything and nothing, dearest Alice. The wrong Alice, the right Alice, Alice with muchness lost and muchness found, the lovely and valiant Alice - they are all named Alice, are they not? And yet, they are all very different Alices, are they not?"

I bit my lip as I considered it. "I suppose. And yet it is an awfully convenient system. You call, 'Alice,' and I know you mean me. I look up. I answer."

"And you call, 'Hatter,' as you did moments ago on the road, and you have my undivided attention, or had that escaped your notice?" I glanced over at him to see the hint of a grin as he alluded the moment of shared ecstasy on the road.

I allowed myself a small smile. "It hadn't, actually," I said softly. "And yet," I said in a stronger tone, "Hatter is not a name. It is the title of your profession and while you have more than proven yourself quite the finest hatter in the land," at this I felt his hand squeeze mine ever so gently, but I did not pause. "I was still hoping for something slightly less formal than the title of your profession that I could use... in _intimate_ moments."

"Oh, you mean when you wish to scream out in ecstasy?" he asked, giving me a sly look.

"Yes, quite," I said, not backing down in the slightest, but the sly look was quickly gone and he turned pensive, looking back out toward the castle.

"It has been ages since anyone used a name for me beyond Hatter, a noun occasionally modified by the adjective 'mad', which I admit I do not much mind. Of course, when the adjective is added to the noun, then the demonstrative adjective 'the' nearly always precedes both and I rather feel unduly objectified at that point, but it is of little consequence. Still, since you ask, I shall think upon this and see if I can remember what I was called."

"You could always choose a name."

"What, like Edward or James or David? No, no, such plebeian names would never do."

"I think those are all very nice names, but of course if you are to pick a name, you should always choose one you like."

"Reginald. I like Reginald. It might actually be my name, of course, but such things are hard to tell. But if it were my name, I would not be unhappy with it," he said as we entered into the courtyard of the castle.

"Reginald," I asked dubiously, trying not to judge his choice.

"Oh yes, Reginald. I quite like it already. Of course, you, Alice my love, may shorten or alter it as you choose. Reg, Reggie, Naldy-poo, My Sweet And Demanding Lover. As you like."

"Reg," I said softly. "Reg," I said again.

"Rolls around your tongue quite well, I think," and as the hatter said it I got the feeling that he was thinking of tongues rolling in other places. I blushed, wondering if I could do to him what he had done to me, and wondering if I was to find out sooner than later, as it seemed at this point quite an inevitable discovery.

"Reg it is, then," he said. "But I still quite like the sound of Hatter from your lips, so I hope you have no strong plans of abandoning it entirely."

I quirked an eyebrow and gazed at him as we walked through the grounds and into the palace. He actually _wanted_ me to call him Hatter. It seemed odd and yet fitting.

"You really are quite delightfully mad, you know that I hope, Hatter."

"All the best people are," he said, quoting me back to myself. We walked in silence the rest of the way to the spacious chamber that had been given me by the Queen, and all the way my heart was filled with a contentment I had not experienced since my father died.

* End Chapter *

* * *

_**End Notes: **_Hello, again! So I was considering a lengthy pontification of typos in canon defining a universe for analysts, but I have in the end decided against it. Instead, I will engage in shameless and abject petitions for reviews. Imagine that I am commencing such, even now.

**_Edit:_** Minor alterations for continuity's sake...


	3. An Introduction to the Hatter's Madness

**Title**: The Frabjous Day  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Universe**: Alice in Wonderland; Tim Burton Movie  
**Beta: ** Colleen. She just rocks. And apparently it was the squee heard round the world when I sent it to her. :)  
**Disclaimer**: Were you confused about this? No, it's not mine. Though it's possible that Alice is now in the public domain, I happen to know that Johnny Depp isn't, so let's just say that I'm playing in the sandboxes of others and leave it at that, shall we? More tea?

**Rating:** M is for momeraths outgabing, miracles, mastectomies, more tea, and of course... mad hatters. Or just the one, in particular.

**Chapter Three:** An Introduction to the Hatter's Madness

* * *

As we approached my room my hand was still firmly in his.

"How did you put your armor on, love?" he murmured as we walked the empty corridors.

"A page assisted me, but the palace seems quite deserted now," I said, not even considering that I'd never be able to get out of my spectacular and effective armor without aid, though it was true.

"Indeed."

He seemed to know that we had reached my room, or perhaps I paused first.

"Will you invite me in, sweetest Alice?" he asked, drawing close to me and whispering once more into my ear. I could feel the fingers of his free hand trailing up and down the path his lips and tongue had blazed earlier on the road. "I could assist you with your armor, draw your bath, scrub your back, feed you grapes, and make you feel so, _so _very good all over again, and again, and again."

"It sounds as if I would get the best part of such a bargain," I said, trying to maintain an even tone and failing, though not miserably. "What would be the benefit to you?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "A hot bath, actual food, and the Alice of my dreams? What part of this did you think I would not enjoy thoroughly and without reservation?"

The Alice of his dreams?

Without even looking or turning, I blindly reached for the door handle and pulled him into the room after me. He slammed the door shut with his foot as we made our way to the center of the room.

"Nice digs," he said, without having looked up to assess the situation. I wondered how he could even render an opinion, his face buried in my hair. "Not enough hats, though."

My laugh was seated deep in my throat. I carefully removed his hat and set it gently on the table we'd stopped near, next to the bowl of fruit that I was certain we'd devour sometime in the very near future.

His face was still buried in my neck and I was getting used to his tender and lovely kisses. I raised one hand and traced his jaw before I let my hands sink into his rioting hair. It was so soft that I marveled as I reached in and clutched it, clutched, released, and dragged my fingernails along his scalp.

"You'll have to make me a hat," I said, thinking of a nice, serviceable one for everyday wear, but before I could continue he groaned and clutched me closer to him.

"Yes, yes," he whispered frantically against my skin. "It will be grand, magnificent, utterly astounding..." he said, his body growing tense and it was one of those moments in which the madness seemed to be taking hold. I was sure that if I looked, his eyes would be bright gold, rather than green.

"Hatter," I called to him sharply as I held him tightly to me.

I felt him take a deep breath, and I felt his tense muscles release somewhat. "Thank you."

I murmured contentedly and kissed his jaw once as I stroked his head with my fingertips. "Have I ever thanked you for letting me borrow your hat? I don't think I have, not properly anyway."

He groaned again and continued kissing my neck lightly. "And what, my delectable Alice, would a proper thank you for the use of my most beloved hat amount to, in your estimation?"

"Hard to say with all this armor on," I replied.

He pulled back and grinned at me, then. "Well, let me just draw your bath for you, and we'll work on getting that heinous obstacle out of your way. I do need a proper thanks, after all." This he said in his strangely alluring Scottish accent. I had yet to discover what pattern of rationale he used in employing it, but decided in fact that it was probably random.

He was gone but a moment before he returned to me, and he began behind me, on his knees, releasing the buckles that secured my shin guards and metal shoes. These he made quick work of, and I felt nothing but the slightest tug through the padding that I wore beneath the plate mail. I heard the shifting of my chain mail skirt as he released the buckles at the back of my thighs, but again, did not feel much. He pulled my gloves from where I had tucked them in the sides of my armor, and took the vorpal blade from my side, laying it near the window with the other parts of my armor. I wondered idly where my shield had gone. I'd lost it, but I was sure someone had retrieved it - if not, I could always venture out perhaps tomorrow to seek it. I had a vague idea that armor ought to be cleaned before it was returned to storage, or used again, but I had no idea how to go about that. Perhaps Hatter knew.

He continued in silence, pulling my left arm out and turning it over, undoing the buckle on my forearm first, then my upper arm before moving to the other side. As he set the last of my gauntlet and arm shields by the window in the ever lengthening row of armored bits, I shook my arms out. Armor was heavy, and the vorpal blade no light piece of paper. It was good that I really only had to hold onto it, whilst keeping myself alive enough to let it continue using me.

When he returned to me, he propped my left wrist over his shoulder so he could get at the buckles along my side that would have proven the most difficult for me to release myself. I couldn't resist, and though the removal of my armor had thus far happened in such an impersonal manner that it might have been a page rendering this service to me, it had never once slipped my mind that it was my newfound lover who was aiding me. I let my fingers gently stroke the tiny strip of neck above his neck cloth and wondered how far down the white of his makeup went. Our eyes met and held. His small smile found an answering one in me. The air was thick with the promises that our gaze was making and though I did not truly know what occurred between a man and a woman beyond kisses and gentle caresses, it was clear to me that something did occur behind closed doors that rarely occurred when the doors were open. I had heard the maids whispering, after all.

One side done, he moved to the other, and then both of my wrists were resting on his shoulders. For a foppish, clown-like madman he had an incredible presence which was due in no small part, I was sure, to the physical realities of his person beyond coloring and hair. He was tall and his shoulders broad. His hands were strong and sure (and could make a miniature dress for a miniature me in something like nine seconds), and he was warm and strong and smelled of new grass, the crispness of fall, and elderberries.

I felt the back of his hand brush against my chest as he reached under the armor to release the collar so the breast plate and back plate could be pulled over my head. It would have been a more enticing experience, I was sure, if that brush hadn't been over a layer of chain mail, a padded shirt, a thin under shirt and a breast binding cloth. Still, I was now free of the plate mail and I waited patiently for him to circle around behind me and unhook the fasteners on the chain mail. Soon that, too, was pulled over my head and he put the mail on the empty wire frame that had been designed to hold the entire suit of armor. And then the Hatter was on his knees behind me again, untying the thick pads from my legs. He tossed the pads in the general direction of the window, but did not yet move. I drew in a shocked breath when I felt his hands vigorously rubbing up and down my calves, one then the other, and then he worked higher, not so much chafing my thighs as deeply massaging them and reconstituting the circulation there, too, over the terribly thin cloth of my under pants which functioned for me in lieu of bloomers, and which went all the way to my ankles. I staggered forward as his fingers ranged nearly all the way up my inner thigh.

"Oh, _God!" _I exclaimed in confusion and shock at the unreasonably good sensation his strong figure produced, but the sensation stopped immediately as Hatter quickly grabbed my hips to steady me. Then he was standing upright behind me, close, but not close enough to feel him.

"Perhaps I ought to save that for the bath," he said with seeming disinterest, though I did not believe his tone. "Speaking of... are you quite stable now, my dear? Might I go check on our bath before it overflows?"

I nodded mutely, my head spinning at a whole variety of things, most prominent of which his strong fingers being only an inch away from my most secret place being one of them, and his very direct reference to sharing a bath being the other.

I heard the faucets turn off and I turned to face the bath room and watched ...Hatter (such an odd name, but I was determined to get used to it)... emerge, rubbing his hands together, a devilish grin on his face.

"Now, where were we?"

"I believe you'd just called off the efforts to presently turn me into a gibbering mass of want in lieu of disrobing me and getting me into the bath." I left out that the bath was presumably where he would reinstate the aforementioned efforts. I didn't think it needed to be said, it was so obvious.

"Right you are," he said, striding closer and pulling my left arm to himself, turning it over and plucking at the ties that that bound the shirt close to my skin. One arm, then the other, and then to my sides again before we were pulling it off together. He tossed it to join the rest of my padding.

When he turned back to me, he caught my eyes in his again and my intake of breath was shuddery at best, but I was no longer ashamed. Whatever it was that people did behind closed doors, I was about to do with Hatter, and if I have learned nothing else about life from my experiences of Underland, I have learned, or am in the process of learning, that all life is beautiful, and that life was meant to be lived, loved, enjoyed, and relished. All of which I intended to do this afternoon with Hatter, and possibly into the evening, and possibly until we've finally reached one day shy of forever.

I smiled at him just as his fingertips - some of which were bethimbled, some which were not - trailed lightly from my shoulders, down the length of my arms until he held my hands in his. He placed my hands at the tie of his neck cloth and raised one eyebrow. As I tugged at one end, he took a step closer and laid his hands gently on my hips and then did not move them.

I took a deep breath, my smile growing wider and ignored the constriction of my breast bindings. They would soon be gone, after all.

I pulled the knot out of his polka dotted neck cloth and ignored for the moment the dust that was kicked up with this action. When, I wondered idly, was the last time he changed his clothes? Had he _ever_ done so? I dropped it next to me and lightly touched his neck which was the same bone white color as most of his face. I wondered if it was perhaps not make up after all. I unbuttoned his shirt, letting my finger graze along the skin that I exposed in doing so, pausing to unbutton his jacket and waist coat when I got so far as that, but then quickly returned to his shirt. As my fingers brushed along the thin line of bright orange hair that darted straight from his navel down his own breathing underwent a dramatic transformation as mine had been doing for the last hour on and off. As I was about to push the entirety of his upper garments off his shoulders, he reminded me of his cuffs.

I undid three cuff links on one side and two on the other and then pushed his clothes away from him until he was standing before me in his kilt, sporran, hose, and shoes, utterly glorious. He was bone white every where and aside from the line of hair that trailed from beneath his navel and a light dusting of sparkling ginger hair on his forearms. Though I was not accustomed to seeing the male form unclothed, I found him exceedingly impressive. He was lean and trim. He had no busoms, of course, but he did have pale fuchsia nipples, tight little buds no bigger than tuppence. I idly wondered how they might taste.

He pulled me over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. "Help me with my shoes, love?"

I knelt down and tugged them off, setting them aside. Both of his hose were striped, but differently one from the other. I rolled them both down and removed the small dagger that had been concealed there before rising to my feet again. He adjusted his seat so that his knees were far enough apart for me to stand between them and I did, shuffling closer, happy to have his hands on my hips again. It just seemed so natural and right for him to touch me, to gently hold me whenever he was near.

"Let's catch you up, shall we?" he murmured, catching the hem of my thin under shirt and pushing it up my torso, but the pushing up seemed to be a side effect of his cool palms pressing upwards, dragging on my skin, over my sides all the ways up to my raised arms until I was able to toss the shirt away.

"Oh, Hatter, that _is_ nice," I said as his fingertips of flesh and metal brushed across my bare abdomen.

"Nice. Hmm." His dexterous fingers untucked the edge of the wrapping and then round and round, back and front as I stood still in front of him he unwound my breasts which, when finally free, bore the horizontal marks of how tightly I'd needed to pull the material. Corsets were as codfish, it was true, but when facing down a jabberwock, I admit that the last thing I wish to worry about is bouncing and chafing, so I bound myself. I gazed at my own body, noting with dismay how marred my torso appeared to be, and given that Hatter seemed to pay my exposed breasts only a cursory glance, I assumed he found them similarly horrible. I swallowed it back and followed his progress as he tugged at the tie that kept my under pants up about my hips. They dropped and I stepped out of them, kicking them away and letting them slide across the cool tile of the floor.

For better or for worse I stood before him, and my only injury was from a week ago and healing well, thanks to the bandersnatch who had given it to me. Still, I did not wish him to find me wanting, and his silence was not endearing this moment to me.

"Silly Alice," he said, meeting my eye and apparently reading of the words of my soul. "Where has your muchness gone, my girl? 'Twas here a moment ago. Truly, you are lovely even when timid, but when you _accept_ that you are, then, oh _then_ sweet girl, you will be _glorious." _His hands were on my hips, pulling me closer. His head was tilted full back and I came to him, meaning to kiss his lips, but the moment the skin of my torso met his I couldn't keep in the full body shiver, the gasp. The simple feeling of so much skin touching overwhelmed my senses utterly. "Hatter! Oh, _Hatter!" _I gasped, but it was so much gibberish to me, for I knew not what I said.

"See? Didn't need to know my name," he mumbled, quite distracted himself.

I kissed him and our tongues met and twined and I moaned into his mouth. My hands were all over his shoulders and back and when we stood I went from towering over him to leaning up to him, but we did not cease kissing. The curling was back in the pit of my stomach and yet all over the surface of my skin at the same time, just as it was back on the road when Hatter's kisses allowed me to touch heaven. He was walking me backward and our tongues never left the company of one another. For the briefest of moments one of his hands was missing, and then I felt his bare thigh brush up against mine as we walked and I knew his kilt and sporran were gone, now. I wanted to glance down, to see him. I'd always gotten the impression from the maids that men were differently built below the waist than women, but I couldn't imagine how that might be. Still, now was not my opportunity.

Still kissing, the sweet man in front of me helped me to step up into the enormous bath tub that could have quite easily fit another person or two besides us. We stepped in and groaned against each other's mouths. Just before we sank down and let the water envelope we two, I felt a hard ridge against my stomach and it made my breath catch. I didn't know what it was, but I certainly _wanted_ to know.

The bath, which was really a very small pool, allowed us to recline completely which we did, but presently Hatter slipped in entirely, head to foot and then surfaced, smiling.

"Well, that's me. I'm clean, now."

I raised a single brow at him. "What about soap? What about scrubbing?"

"What about them?" he asked quite sincerely.

"I shall acquaint you with them." Then I leaned in, my hands on his shoulders, my body hovering over his in the buoyancy of the water. "I think you may enjoy them both." I said nothing of daily baths. I would work him up to that obviously foreign concept.

His hair was slicked back, and darker for it being so wet, and I admit it changed his appearance markedly. I wondered if he would occasionally consent to wearing his hair pulled back and tied with a thong. I had a strong inclination that it would be a significantly dashing look that he would absolutely be able to pull off.

All I wanted in the world was to kiss him, but first things were first. I grabbed a sponge and poked it to make sure it was, in fact, just a sponge, but when it failed to protest or move on its own, I picked it up and rubbed it against the bar of soap that was to the side of the tub. With a corner of the sponge I very gently began to wash his face, trying to concentrate despite his roaming hands, despite my inner thighs resting against his body even as I kept myself away from him slightly.

"Close your eyes, dear," I said, rubbing the sponge gently all over his smiling face an noting that all of what I had at first supposed was makeup was apparently... well... his natural skin tone.

I sighed with a strange shiver of happiness. Only my mad hatter would have one purple eyelid and one teal one, besides the fact that apparently the dark circles under _his_ eyes took on a decidedly fuchsia tint. I wrung out the sponge and filled it with water, and then rinsed his face, then started over with his neck and chest, his arms and fingers, and then his back. I paused, then.

"I, that is I've never seen a man naked."

"This is not as shocking as you might imagine. Allow me to illuminate you."

And then he stood up, and suddenly I was eye to groin with him and there was something that was threatening to poke my eye out.

"Oh! Oh _my! _I... um... what is that?" I asked, my concerned eyes darting up to his amused ones. "You've quite obviously done this before and you know I haven't. No fair poking fun."

"There will be fun and there will be poking. Try again."

I glared at him. "What is it?"

"Technical term, or the vernacular, because really my peach, the vernacular is _so_ much more interesting. Cock, dick, rod, pipe, meat, stick, twig 'n' berries, love pole. Or, if you're me, which I happen to be today, My Little Madness."

"You call this your little madness? Why?"

"Well if he had opposable thumbs, I'd call him the Little Hatter, but he doesn't, so I won't. I must have standards, you see."

"Huh. Why do you name it at all?"

"Because he's an opinionated cuss, drawing attention to himself and occasionally spouting off, all when I'd rather he didn't."

"You can't control that?" I asked, bemused.

"Yes. And no. Which is to say sometimes yes, but other times no. When he's soft and quiescent he shrivels down to nearly nothing and I pay him no mind, you see. And then you walk by, looking like sunrise and smelling of marzipan and buttered popcorn and then quite suddenly he is rock hard and rather insistent that I approach you and kiss you senseless. I have to agree, most of the time I will admit that it is a fair idea, though I've only recently given into the urge. So really, that's no and no."

"May I... touch it? Er, him?"

"That's the idea, cricket."

One finger to the tip had him shuddering and swearing, so I picked up the sponge and the soap and washed the rest of him, leaving his Madness until last. I put the sponge down and soaped up my fingers before cupping the furry sack that hung down behind Hatter's Madness. He had one hand on my shoulder and one on the wall, bracing himself as he trembled. I smiled and soaped up my hands again before taking hold of the long, hard rod of pale flesh. I marveled as I held it, stroking and rubbing it, serenaded by low, long moans. I admit that I drew it out.

When I stopped, he slipped back into the water, but as I slid up next to him his head sunk back on the edge of the bathing pool and he groaned.

"Soap. Scrubbing. Whenever you like. In fact, I think you should check to make sure I'm completely rinsed. Particularly the Madness. We wouldn't want him soapy. He'll be very useful in just a little while, now."

I smiled and tucked myself up into his side, my left hand trailing up his thigh. I cupped his sack briefly before grasping the Madness again. Quickly I felt his hand cover mine, directing it. A firm, squeezing grip pumping him up and down, sometimes coming up over the tip after the upstroke is what I ended up doing, after his direction took hold. His hold. His gasps and moans made me smile.

"Alice, lovely Alice, my own Alice, my only Alice, don't stop, don't stop, I'm so close..."

Close to what, I wondered.

And then suddenly his whole body tensed, and it clicked for me.

I felt the Madness pulse and twitch underneath my fist as Hatter released one last sustained groan. His face was relaxed and not quite so very bone white. And the fuchsia around his eyes and under the hollow of his cheekbones was a lighter tint as well. He looked... younger, and infinitely more relaxed.

*End Chapter*

* * *

_**End Notes:**_ We meet again. Um, could you take just a moment to review and let me know what you think of the progress thus far?

**_Edit:_** Minor edits for continuity's sake.


	4. Hintless Hints & The Kingdom of Heaven

**Title**: The Frabjous Day  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Universe**: Alice in Wonderland; Tim Burton Movie  
**Beta: ** Colleen. She just rocks. And apparently it was the squee heard round the world when I sent it to her. :)  
**Disclaimer**: Were you confused about this? No, it's not mine. Though it's possible that Alice is now in the public domain, I happen to know that Johnny Depp isn't, so let's just say that I'm playing in the sandboxes of others and leave it at that, shall we? More tea?

**Rating:** M is for momeraths outgabing, miracles, mastectomies, more tea, and of course... mad hatters. Or just the one, in particular.

**Chapter Four**: Hintless Hints & The Kingdom of Heaven

* * *

It was incredibly gratifying to see just how much power I seemed to have over Hatter, not that I planned to abuse it, of course. But it seems that he just had a moment synonymous to my moment in the road, courtesy of yours truly and I loved that I could, to all appearances, make him feel just as good as he could make me feel. This was a truly excellent state of affairs.

I pondered for a brief moment that my Mad Hatter was well and truly all I'd always wanted in a man, and I do honestly believe that had Father lived, and had Father ever gotten the opportunity meet him and get to know him, he, too, would have approved. Hatter was handsome, after a fashion, and highly skilled and sought after in his chosen field. He was mad, but it seemed that he was mad in exactly a fashion that complemented my own inability to adhere to society's norms. He was, I fancied my father might say, just mad enough for me. I'd always thought that other suitors didn't have a sense of humor, but then, neither does Hatter, so I've noticed. It was madness that I craved, without even realizing it. But as I was realizing even now, he was also sensitive and decent in matters that I never knew would be come an issue. This long series of intimate moments we'd been sharing was evidence enough of that.

That he was interested in me for who I was - which he had apparently devoted much time and effort in consideration thereof - rather than what I could bring to his status and position went without saying. I was devoted to him already and it was entirely conceivable that I was... falling in love.

It was only a moment or two after I had fondled the Madness - he calls it little, but it does not seem to me to be very small - that I then curled up at his side to muse in silence as he gently held me and hummed a tune I did not recognize.

Fornication. That is what the rector would call what I was about to do with Hatter - or perhaps what had already commenced between us. While I was admittedly vague about actual details, I was fairly clear that these closed-door activities amounted to fornication when performed outside of marriage. Or was it when performed outside of the marriage bed? No, that did not make sense. What if a married couple wished to do what Hatter and I had just done in the bath? And what if an unwed couple did so in someone else's marriage bed? No, no. It had to be marriage that made the distinction clear, but then were did that leave me?

I had no wish to be a woman with loose morals, and certainly if Hatter and I were even now lying in a bathtub that was located somewhere in London, we would need to have just taken our marriage vows for either of us to have any connection to respectable society again, but I was very, very unclear as to how this occurred in Underland. Was there even such a thing as marriage here?

I searched my mind to try and find an example of a married couple. I was coming up with nothing at all. Granted, several members of the White Queen's court seemed to be coupled off in a male-female fashion, but I had no knowledge of whether or not they were married, or something similar. Everyone else I knew of was single...

Bayard. Bayard was married. Alright, apparently dogs could marry. What about humans - or, well, people who may or may not be precisely human? Hatter and I, for instance...

I licked my lips in preparation of asking, but could not look up. "Hatter, do people marry in Underland? Is that common?"

"Is this by way of hinting you'd like me to propose, cricket? Rather bald of you. I haven't gotten you a ring, first off, nor have we the Queen's permission, though it's not likely she'll fail to offer it. Good form requires that we ask first, however, and I'm feeling in particularly good form just now, thanks to you."

"Oh!" I paused, trying to catch up to him. "I, well, no. I wasn't trying to hint. But now you bring it up, yes, I would very much like to marry you, and I... well, would you... like... that?" I peeped up at him to find him starring off at the ceiling above us, his head still thrown back, his pale throat long and beautiful. The man really was a work of art.

"No, not really. I mean, I shouldn't _like_ it at all." My eyes went wide and my hand stilled as my heart sank. "This is not to say that I'm not utterly devoted to you, dearest of Alices. Even with your muchness temporarily in abeyance, as it very obviously is just now, you are quite delightful. I think it better to consider that it would be the honor of my life to take you as my wife. It would fill every fiber of my being with the greatest and most profound joy--"

But he got no further. He stopped mid-sentence because that was just the moment that my wits returned and I attacked him.

There was some pouncing involved and, though I don't quite remember how I managed it gracefully, in the end I found myself looming over him, my legs astride his hips, my knees resting on the seat on which he himself sat in a semi-recumbent fashion, one hand bracing against his shoulder, the other grasping the hair at the back of his head as something like a handle. My eyes, I am certain, were ablaze and my hair formed a half-wet and dripping curtain around our faces, for I pulled his head up so he would face me.

"_You!_ You _insane_... you... _you_ _tease! _Certainly you must have known how I would take hearing that you 'would _not_ like to marry' me! How dare you even let such a thing pass your lips in seriousness if you did not mean it! For certainly if you are amenable to such a thing, it _could_ be termed 'like' as well as anything else! _Well?_ What have you to say for yourself, you incorrigible man?"

I was fuming, and there was no mistaking it, but Hatter had not flinched during my tirade, and answered in a similarly laconic manner.

"Really, Alice," he said, placing his hands at my hips and slowly rubbing his thumbs in circles. "We must work on your blatant disregard for the need of truly fitting superlatives in your every day speech. Sorely lacking, sorely lacking." He tutted me. The man had the _nerve_ to tut me. "Say what you mean and mean what you say, for if you don't, of what use is speaking at all? One might as well at that point be speaking French. Which I don't recommend. Bad for the digestion."

"You are maddening!"

"Really?" he asked, and smiled. "Thank you, love. That's very kind of you to say. Come, let's scrub you up."

He sat up slightly and pulled my hips down such that I was sitting in his lap, only after a fashion I would never have imagined. I gasped when I felt his Madness brush up against my most secret place. His smile became a lazy grin.

"Oh, that's _nice," _he said, and I didn't know if he was mocking me by using that word.

"Just nice?" I asked, and wished my voice had been more level. My hands were, utterly without seeking permission from me first, rubbing up and down his chest.

"Mmm," he said, nodding slowly but keeping my gaze trapped within his grass green eyes, and my own eyes grew wide at the sound, and I swallowed convulsively, as the sound of his little moan made my mouth water and my belly clench both at the same time. I tried to take a deep breath, but it was harder than it should have been.

"It gets progressively lovelier from this point on. But nice is an appropriate way to describe the beginning."

It felt as if he was scrambling my brain somehow - not his words, but his presence, his body, his... well, his Madness.

"This is... the beginning? Then what about what came before, just... just earlier?"

His lazy grin turned into a knowing smirk. "Well, we are bouncing around a bit today. This certainly isn't a linear approach. Circular, I'd say."

I was confused by what he meant, but I didn't care to belabor the point just at this moment. And even if I'd wanted to, I wasn't sure I'd be able, as he'd picked up the sponge and cake of soap and demonstrated just how familiar he was with scrubbing, which as it turns out, he operated at a champion level. Soap, scrub, rinse, soap, scrub, rinse, soap, scrub rinse, and he quickly addressed my entire body. I was left standing before him at the end, panting and keening and holding his shoulders for support as he knelt on the ledge on which he'd formerly been sitting, one of his arms around my waist, his hand pressing against up against my shoulder blades, one hand buried in my most secret of places, and lips suckling at the nipples upon my breasts, alternating one after another.

I gasped and keened and moaned and called out what I don't know. The combination of his suckling lips and teasing tongue with his hand... oh, his _hand! _Wiggling and writhing and pumping and curling deep with the very core of my being were several of Hatters _exceedingly_ talented fingers - and possibly a thimble - and it was like the moment in the road, even moreso. If you had told me before that such bliss could be compounded, expanded, and added to until it was pressed down and overflowing I would have argued vehemently against such a ridiculous notion, but it was so. _Oh__, _it was so!

I was loud. I was so loud I might have been, in other moments, embarrassed of myself, or possibly wondering if I was in my death throes to be making such groaning and sighing sounds - certainly as devoted as my father was to my mother I had never, not once heard such sounds emanate from their bed - or their bath. But so it was. Honestly, I was only as loud as I felt I needed to be, and if anyone else in either world experienced the sort of deep and ecstatic pleasure that I was even now experiencing, then such sounds and such a volume would be the only reasonable response to such a situation.

And the sensations only mounted until the rubbing and writhing and pumping and suckling pushed me over the edge of sanity and into madness, where with a final scream, I _flew_.

This could not possibly be fornication. Fornication was evil. This was so obviously _not_ evil. _This_ was heaven on earth. The kingdom of heaven was like Hatter's fingers in Alice's most secret of places - better and more complete than even the most perfect hat he could ever make. Here endeth the lesson.

"Lovelier and lovelier," Hatter murmured to me moments after as he lay back again and pulled me with him such that I was curled up half on top of him, and half to the side. His hands held my back, securing me close to him, and stroked my flank, pulling my legs up and across his. My lips were by his ear and as I finally began to come back to myself, still panting, I spoke softly.

"Oh, _Hatter__..._ That was... _so..._" but I trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Stupendous?" he supplied softly, gently.

"Oh _yes__,"_ I said, grateful for his word choice, and grateful that there was no forthcoming lecture on the subject of my vocabulary, or lack thereof. I sighed again, and stroked his chest, utterly content.

_*End Chapter*

* * *

  
**End Note: **_Eeek! -This is me overwhelmed and grateful at the love. Feelin' the love! I love yall, too, and I'm working on replying to your wonderful, wonderful reviews. So, keep it up, and you'll hear from me. And yes, it continues...


	5. Tarrant's Dearest Frumperdimple

**Title**: The Frabjous Day  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Universe**: Alice in Wonderland; Tim Burton Movie  
**Beta: ** Colleen. She just rocks. And apparently it was the squee heard round the world when I sent it to her. :)  
**Disclaimer**: Were you confused about this? No, it's not mine. It is in the public domain, however. More tea?

**Rating:** M is for momeraths outgabing, miracles, mastectomies, more tea, and of course... mad hatters. Or just the one, in particular.

**

* * *

Chapter Five**: Tarrant's Dearest Frumperdimple Meets Her Flower

On the way to the bed, wrapped in fluffy white towels I took the bowl of fruit and brought it with us. I saw the purple vial of jabberwocky blood on the table and flinched, but either Hatter did not notice, or simply made no mention.

He bade me lay down without my towel, stomach down, my face nestled into the soft pillows and I felt his hands on my feet. I groaned deeply as I felt thimbles and knuckles and fingertips digging deeply into the muscles of first one foot then the other.

"Quite a piece of work you've done with the bandersnatch. I do believe that I've never seen him quite so tame and docile with anyone else," he remarked as he was mid-way up my left calf.

"I gave him his eye back. And then he healed my arm. I believe that cemented our friendship."

Hatter then proceeded to regale me on the domestic life of the ancient bandersnatch and how he supposed it had changed since then, and how he thought it might now revert, as the creature was quite obviously no longer an imprisoned pet of the Red Queen. I admit that I was only listening with half an ear. The rest of my attention was focused on the incredible bliss of his hands, now on my thigh, and my derriere.

"Oh! I remember my name. Not that you need it, of course. You seem to be getting along quite well with the label of my calling, and I do quite like Reginald of course."

This quite naturally _did_ get my attention. It helped that his hands were on my back now, working marvelous miracles, but farther away from that secret place.

"Please tell me your name," I managed to say without moaning in pleasure.

"Tarrant."

_Tarrant._ It was odd, but truth be told I quite liked it. "Mmm... _Tarrant."_

He was quiet for several long moments, then he cleared his throat and renewed his efforts on my lower back. The man's hands were pure magic, and I'd gotten an idea of how I'd like to thank him for letting me borrow his hat, but I wasn't sure I could do such an excellent job on him as he did on me. I would try anyway, of course.

He cleared his throat again. "Ah, yes. Well. You, um, may of course always feel free to, uh, that is, as my dearest frumperdimple you may of course use my given name whenever you like."

A sly smile stole over my face as I wondered if my saying of his name affected him as much as I suspected that it has. Well, moaned. I'd moaned it, really.

He was midway up my back when I propped myself up on my arms and craned my neck to see him. To do this, of course I had to flip my hair out of the way. Given his gasp, I rather think he liked that. How odd. Still.

I caught his gaze, and it was electric. His wide green eyes were predominantly black, with only a slim sliver of grass green around the edges, and they seemed to call to me. At this point I completely forgot what I was going to say to him.

"Lay down," he commanded, his voice soft and low and so very deep. "I'm not done with you, yet."

If it hadn't been the world's most incredible massage, I might have argued. If his wide eyes hadn't pulled me in and moored me, I might have argued. If he hadn't been sitting on my derriere, I might have argued. But I didn't.

"_Yes, Tarrant,"_ is what I whispered instead. I watched him lick his lips and swallow before I turned and sunk back down into the pillows.

When he got to my shoulders his fingers digging in so deeply released the tension of my first attempt at swordplay my first moan was entirely involuntary.

My second wasn't.

"Oh, _oh, oh yes, oh Tarrant!" _

He shifted and leaned slightly and quite suddenly I could feel the weight of his Madness along my lower back and I smiled.

Then he was over me entirely, his hands gone, but his lips were by my ear.

"You gorgeous girl," he whispered, his voice a low and thick brogue. "You know what you do to me, don't you, or you are learning but quickly." A hand slipped under me and slipped under me and cupped my left breast. He pinched and rolled my nipple and I gasped. "Yes, that's right. Just like that. Only next time, my name, if you please."

My smile was joyous. His hands were all over my body, though as he shifted he remained behind me, his Madness pressed firmly up against the cleft in my buttocks, until I was on my side and leaning slightly back against him, his arms around me. One of his hands caressed my breasts and the other was slipping down my abdomen, to where... I could guess.

His fingers made a juicy sound as they delved deep. I gasped his name and pressed myself back against him, even as my left had reached back over my shoulder and sought out his head. The feel of his fingers, rough and calloused and oh so very strong, his arms like whipcords securing my body to his, alone these things would have been overwhelming, but then added to that were the _location _of those hands... _Oh._

He moaned and nibbled at my shoulder. "So slick..." I felt his lips brush up my neck to my ear. "Alice, lovely and sweet as the honeyed nectar," he said, but paused as my fingers clenched and kneaded at the back of his head. "Mmm... The flower of your sex," he whispered, his voice low and like gravel, and yet making me squirm, "is lush and succulent and so very, very _wet."_

He made it sound like a good thing, but I felt the need to check.

"Is that... um, supposed to happen like that?"

"Only if I'm doing it right," he growled then, and his lips were gone, back down my neck and attached again to the base. He kissed and licked and suckled and I screamed again, my senses overloading so quickly and strongly it felt as if I were drowning, or perhaps I was becoming completely fluid myself, falling forever, like the mythic waterfalls of far off places in the Americas, and in darkest Africa.

His hands were still after my passion had passed and I felt truly as if I _had_ somehow melted. My bones were as jelly and my muscles failed to respond to any sense of direction I might be inclined to present them.

"Oh, Hatter," I sighed. "How do you bring me such wondrous pleasure? Can all women feel as I feel with the man they adore?"

His hands stroked my abdomen idly.

"To answer," he murmured, "the White Queen, and probably."

I turned in his arms, finally able to marshal control over my body. He still held me close, and I had my own hands on his person - one on his chest, and one rested on his slim hip. As I examined him closely, he seemed yet again to be different - softer, and younger, and significantly less careworn. His color was changing. His eyelids were still violently purple and teal, though, and I was glad to see it.

"It is from her than I learned my lessons in love," he replied softly, stroking my body.

I don't think I was able to keep the horror from my countenance. He... she... they... _no.__  
_

"This surprises you, love? It is the _droit de seigneur._ The White Queen initiates all whom she finds comely and inexperienced within her realm."

I digested this piece of information in silence. It helped somewhat - the tiniest bit, alright, not at all, really - to know that this was _what was done._ Perhaps he had not much choice in the matter.

"Were you very young at the time?" I asked, finding my voice, though not able to meet his eye.

"Indeed. I was a just a lad then, not yet forty."

Hmm. "And how old are you now?"

"That's an ever-changing thing, of course, and very nearly every day is my unbirthday."

Unbirthday parties. I remembered something about that. What was it?

The Hatter continued speaking, however. "When you first came back I would guess I was probably nearly six hundred and ninety-three years old, but after our bath, I feel quite sixty-two again. Always nice to turn the clock back, as it were."

I looked up at him, curiously. "And how old do you think you might be by the end of the week, then?"

He grinned, and it was hard not to get caught up in it. "Early twenties, I should think. But of course, that does largely depend on _you."_

"Me?" I asked, with as much innocence as I could muster in the moment.

"Oh yes," he said sincerely. "In fact, there's something I'd like to try."

He pushed me back and was over me then and my senses were awash with him as he held himself over me. And then he was gone, but he... _oh!_

"As I suspected, lemon currant tartlet!"

And then there were no more words, there was just my incoherent yelps and moans, and Hatter's much softer humming. I could tell he was humming, even over the melee I created because I could _feel it._

I put my hands through his wet hair with the thought to pull his head away, but then, _oh, then_ I realized that I was only holding him close. Oops.

It was his tongue, you see.

His tongue was... _oh..._ it was, well, it was _scandalous. _I was sure, positive, absolutely _certain_ that he oughtn't be doing as he was, to all appearances devouring the secret place deep inside of me, the place he called the succulent flower of my sex. I was sure that wasn't for eating. I did unspeakable things in just that same area, after all.

Shouldn't... no, mustn't... _Oh yes, yes, yes! _Again! It was happening _again!_

I writhed and squirmed and screamed. I felt his forearm come across my hips, pinning that part of me, at least, to the bed, and I was flying, clawing at his shoulders and screaming his name.

Just as the moment seemed to reach the absolute peak of peakiness, everything changed. He was suddenly above me again, his form looming, his wide, mesmerizing gaze, now golden, catching mine. His hand slipped behind my shoulders and held me securely to him. His hips slid between my wide open thighs and I felt the tip of his Madness slip and slide amongst the petals of my flower. My hands were all over his back when the tip of the Madness seemed to catch and slip and sink...

_Oh __**dear.**_ _It... was... so... __**thick...**__  
_

I couldn't restrain my breathing, or my groaning. I tried to stop talking, but I couldn't seem to manage that, either.

"Hatter, Hatter, oh, God, _Hatter,_ it's so..."

"Mind-bendingly delectable?" he asked on a groan.

"_Yes!_" I cried as he slipped further in, and further, and I raised my knees up to cradle his beautiful body. I felt so full, so very _full. _And the sensation of so much of his skin against mine, sliding slick with sweat, hot and wonderful... I think I whined when he stopped.

"This may hurt, sweetling," he said softly, but his voice trembled.

He thrust quickly then, and groaned, and I whimpered, because it did hurt and I felt so wide open, but neither would I exchange this for anything else in the world. I wrapped my legs around his hips, feeling utterly wanton, but then chiding myself. This was nothing compared to having his tongue act as the stamen to my flower.

As the pain eased I held still and silent and mused that in fact, if I stayed like this until the end of time, well, there were worse things I could do. It seems that my body was made for his, and his for me. Who was I to argue with that?

_*End Chapter*_

* * *

**_End Note:_** We have a few more chapters to go. :) What say you to the progress thus far? I know you have an opinion... Clickity-click on the green words below and let me know what you're thinking.


	6. An Island Off the Coast of Nowhere

**Title**: The Frabjous Day  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Universe**: Alice in Wonderland; Tim Burton Movie  
**Beta: ** Colleen. She just rocks. And apparently it was the squee heard round the world when I sent it to her. :)  
**Disclaimer**: Were you confused about this? No, it's not mine. Though it's possible that Alice is now in the public domain, I happen to know that Johnny Depp isn't, so let's just say that I'm playing in the sandboxes of others and leave it at that, shall we? More tea?

**Rating:** M is for momeraths outgabing, miracles, mastectomies, more tea, and of course... mad hatters. Or just the one, in particular.

**Chapter Six****:** An Island off the Coast of Nowhere

* * *

I could only imagine how I looked in that moment: wide-eyed and gasping. He gently kissed the corners of my eyes, my forehead, and I felt his lips brush over my cheekbones, over and over again.

"Sweetest Alice," he murmured against the skin of my face. "How do you fare, my dove? Is it still very painful?"

I shifted once, in an experimental fashion and found the pain to be nearly nonexistent, but that is not what was so very shocking. Shocking was the way I felt (again! How could I feel thusly _again?) _with my beloved Hatter stretching me so widely.

The feeling of fullness was almost indescribable. Stuffed game hens and ducks could not have felt more full, but that was no commentary at all on the pleasure involved. I could feel it _everywhere._ His body rested above mine, touching me everywhere, though he held his weight off of me, and while the very touch of his skin against mine made me gasp with the glory of it, even such a wonder did not hold a candle to the insane goodness of his Madness wrapped in the succulent petals of my flower.

I shifted once more, still experimenting, and we both groaned. There was absolutely, positively no more pain.

"No longer," I said, and wished that my voice were stronger and less filled with air, but so it was.

"Good," he said, but it was not his normal speaking voice either. His response was more of a growl than anything else and the very sound of it made me shudder a bit. My arms were around his back and I held him to me tighter, but even then he withdrew from me. I cried out in loss - what was he doing? Where was he going? I couldn't have done something wrong, not with as good as this felt, so what was the problem?

"Hatter, what are you--_Oh! Hatter!" _He pulled out, almost withdrawing his Madness from me only to thrust back deep within. Meanwhile, my world was shattering.

I groaned, I screamed, I think I might have used my nails a bit too roughly on his back, and all the while he thrust in and out following the rhythm of a dance the steps of which I was only just beginning to learn. He groaned delightfully sweet things into my ear in between laying kisses on my face and neck. Deep and shallow, quick and slow, he was unceasing and before not very long at all I screamed his name as I flew apart in his arms.

"Tarrant, oh, _Tarrant! Yes, please, please!"_

Not very long after I collapsed with a delightfully wrung-out sigh, Hatter, too, paused. His body was entirely rigid as if every muscle had gone quite suddenly tense and I could feel the Madness pulse in a peculiar and agonizingly delightful way, though I was too tired to do much more than moan softly and hold him. He whispered my name as if it were a prayer before a shudder wracked his body. He nearly collapsed then, but instead rolled slightly and took me with him. We took a moment to arrange ourselves - arms and legs and such not and it was delightful to lay there, the silence between us full and warm and comfortable.

"Tarrant, tell me of Underland. How will it be, now that the Red Queen is banished?" My voice was quiet in the spacious off-white bedroom. When I shivered, he pulled a sheet up around us and though it was light, it was enough.

"Possibly much like it was. Slightly less than Utopian. Slightly more than a Corrupt Oligarchy. Though the White Queen has no place giving dictates to living things, I daresay our world will be in bloom once more, now that the Red Queen no longer has any power to forbid it. Time will continue to refuse to march on, I will create hats of staggering magnificence and there will be both much sex and many tea parties in our future, that is, if you are amenable."

I peered up at him and caught the look on his face. It was serene.

"Could you doubt my willingness for either one?" Maps. Suddenly I thought of maps. I wondered if there were maps of Underland, and if so, how accurate they might or might not be. I wondered if there was an actual cartographer here, or if that was a post yet to be filled. That could be a very interesting endeavor... I held off on mentioning it, however, because I also thought of tea.

"In former days I didn't quite remember that I had been here once before, but I dreamed almost every night about Underland. Just bits and pieces, you understand. When I was a little girl I remember that I used have my delightfully formal tea parties in the nursery. I always invited you," I said, my smile one of mischief.

"Really, cricket? My invitation must have gotten lost in the post. Damnably unreliable things, the snails of her majesty's post. Frightfully slow, as well. This explains at least in part why you were so shockingly late. You thought we were coming to you."

I laughed. "I always invited you and March and Mannyumpkin. My nurse could never figure out why. Since you never did arrive, I used dolls in your place. They weren't nearly as good. Not quite the conversationalists, you know. And even when I tried, I could not come close to imitating the glorious and delightful things you manage to say, seemingly without effort."

"Without any at all," he agreed, kissing my hair.

And then we were quiet again. I have no idea how much time passed in this fashion; a good part of the day, perhaps.

I was full of questions, but I had no notion of where to begin with them. I told Hatter so.

"Start at the beginning and work toward the end. Contrarywise, you could start at the end and work backwards until you come to the beginning. Eschewing linear patterns altogether, you could pick a place at random and just keep circling 'round until you eventually include everything."

That was the second time he mentioned a linear versus circular approach. I quite liked the option, actually.

"Do you sleep, Hatter?"

"Occasionally. I used to fall asleep at tea." He sighed, then, and it was a deep and heartfelt thing. I could feel his chest move. "No more mandatory tea parties."

I looked at him askance. "I thought you quite liked the tea parties."

"I do. Tea time is the best time. It lacks somewhat, however, when every time under the sun and over it is tea time. The Bloody Big Head had cursed us, you see, myself and March. Mannyumpkin was away checking on the scones at that particular moment, and she missed the honor of Compulsory Tea."

I didn't quite understand. "She cursed you so you were always at tea?"

"No. She cursed us so that we would always _want_ to be at tea. It would always be tea time. We could do other things - indeed sometimes we needed to. I left with you, when you traveled by hat, if you recall. But there would always be that compulsory itch, that horrible feeling that there was something else you ought to be doing, and the longer spent away from tea, the stronger it became. You can't imagine the agony of being constantly preoccupied with tea."

I thought of my potential mother-in-law, the duchess, but chose not to argue with Tarrant just now. After all, I believe that Hamish's mother actually enjoyed it. Besides which, she reminded me all too much of the Red Queen. I didn't want to think of her for too long, anyway.

"Really, the only upshot was that whenever her minions came calling, we had an excuse to continue our tea, besides chucking cups and scones at them when the opportunity arose. A pittance, really, but better to enjoy it than fail to acknowledge it entirely."

My heart broke a little with the thought that he could have been forced into something like that, even something as innocuous as having tea. But still, being forced to be at tea _for years?_

As I was considering what question to ask him, I felt a warm metal thimble lightly trace up my back and I shivered.

"Are you sore?" he asked quietly. "I could draw you another bath, if you are."

"We've just had a bath, Tarrant," I said. I looked at him with a question in my eye.

A delightful little smile quirked just at the edges of his lips. "That was for scrubbing. This would be for the soaking of tired and sore muscles."

"I don't think I'm so very sore," I commented.

"Stretch, and you'll know for certain. You've had a rather vigorous day, all things together."

I did so, but did not feel particularly unwell in any sense. I did not, until I felt one of his fingers slip and push against my secret place.

"Oh!" I cried softly. "Yes, perhaps a bath."

"Won't be a moment," he said.

I watched his form as he rose and crossed the room in quick and sure movements, but I did not wait for him to return. I stood in the doorway to the bathing chamber, soaking in the opportunity to gaze upon him without clothes obscuring my view. He was long and lean. He was so very pale, but admittedly not quite as pale as he had been when I'd first returned to Underland. That was curious, but I was interested to see if the transformation might continue, or if it had already reached its completion.

As he stood up straight and turned back around, he started.

"Oh, my. I didn't hear you come in, cricket. You really ought to make some sort of noise as you move."

"Would you like me to don collar with a bell?" I asked with no small measure of sarcasm. He slinked up next to me and held me close. It was so easy to just fold up into his embrace. I was, I admit, unprepared for the response I was about to receive.

"If you don a collar, I hope you wont find me impertinent if I display a propensity to chain you to the bed."

I pinched him.

"Or not," he murmured with complete equanimity. "As you like."

I sighed and just breathed in his presence. It felt so good to stand with him like this, to feel his body against mine. It was this way that we stayed until the bath was ready. We walked toward the small sunken pool, hand in hand. He stepped in and held my hand as I did the same. We were on the opposite side of the pool as from where we were before, and as he reclined he turned off the spouts. Hatter invited me to lean against him, and when I did, he wrapped his arms around me, his legs slipping off to each side of mine. He dropped tiny kissed on the top of my head as we lazed there, together.

When the bath began to grow cold we left it and dried ourselves all over again, pulling the plug as we went on our way. As we made our way back to the bed, I began to be curious about our intimacy all over again. We had both given and received pleasure and I was curious as to whether or not we had covered everything. Had we already exhausted our very own compendium of pleasures, or was there a world yet to explore?

I was sure we weren't done, yet.

_***End Chapter***_

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**End Notes:** Hello, there! Please let me know what you think about the progress we've made so far. There's only one chapter left, so review now while you have the chance! And don't forget to put me on Author Alert, and follow along on Twitter (sareliz), if that's your medium of choice, because I know I've got more Hatter in me. :) Don't you want a little Hatter in you? Leave a review - Hatter for all!


	7. Feasting on Oranges & Elderberry Wine

**Title**: The Frabjous Day  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Universe**: Alice in Wonderland; Tim Burton Movie  
**Beta: ** Colleen. She just rocks. And apparently it was the squee heard round the world when I sent it to her. :)  
**Disclaimer**: Were you confused about this? No, it's not mine. Though it's possible that Alice is now in the public domain, I happen to know that Johnny Depp isn't, so let's just say that I'm playing in the sandboxes of others and leave it at that, shall we? More tea?

**Rating:** M is for momeraths outgabing, miracles, mastectomies, more tea, and of course... mad hatters. Or just the one, in particular.

**Chapter Seven:** Feasting on Oranges and Elderberry Wine

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After a pause to drink some much needed water and peel an orange, Hatter and I retired yet again to our bed. The bed, our bed, where was Hatter's bed? I mean, did he have a home? I seem to recall that the tea party actually took place outside of March's house... At least, I thought so. My memories were so muddled of my time here before, and sharp, clear memories were coming back to me, but not in anything like a flood.

I was sure he must have had a workshop at some point, but when he was a prisoner of the Red Queen, he'd made it sound as if he hadn't worked as a Hatter in some time. I wondered if he'd really just been at tea for all that time. I meant to ask him about this, but he distracted me by delicately placing a single, perfect wedge of orange against my lips.

I opened my mouth and took it from his fingers, all the while looking into his eyes. Even as I slowly chewed my mouthful, I watched as he took a slice and ate it. We devoured the orange ever so slowly, but my attention was never drawn away from his lips.

Before that moment I'd not really taken the time to appreciate his lips. If I had any ability at all, I should want to write an ode to his lips, but of course I don't. They were the same peculiarly delightful shade of fuchsia pink as the dark circles underneath his eyes, and the care-worn cracks of his hands, and yet in every other place on his form, that color was an indicator of how well he had not taken care of himself. His lips, quite to the contrary, were utter perfection. They looked just as soft as they truly were. They were perfectly bow shaped, being neither too thick nor too thin.

And finally I could no longer resist the urge to meet them with mine. Truly, what I wanted to do was lick them and see if I could find any trace of the orange flavor left on the outsides. I decided to indulge myself. A shiver raced down my spine as I did so, because I _could_ taste the orange. We started on our sides, but I pushed at his shoulder and rolled we two until I sat astride him in what might have been a most scandalous manner, had it occurred anywhere outside of our bedroom, which I have to admit I had briefly considered in the bath. What would it be like, for instance, to share our passions outside at the open air tea party? Obviously this would occur when March and Mannyumpkin were not around. Could we do this as he sat in the wingback chair, or would one of the others be better? Possibly both?

Still, we were not outside just at the moment. We were in the White Queen's palace, making the most of the quarters I had been given and the exceedingly comfortable bed that said quarters boasted.

Hatter groaned when I settled back on him, sitting up properly with such posture that might have made my mother proud, had she known, and had it been displayed in a different situation with more clothes involved. I smiled to feel his hands stroking my body, first my thighs, then my hips, the small of my back, my chest. I sat there, drinking him in as well.

So, so beautiful.

And quite suddenly I moved again. It was utterly urgent in that moment that I taste him. All of him. He had done quite a bit of exploring of my body, after all, and certainly I was due my turn. I did not truly think he would object, but neither did I ask permission. Still, his groans and sighs told me what I needed to know. His arms, his hands, his chest, his abdomen, it was all fair game to me. Indeed, it was as if his body had just been declared open ground in which I and only I could hunt. I was hunting for his groans and his moans and I paid particular attention to those moments when I found them. I marked those spots in my mind for further study.

And then there was his Madness. I let my fingers explore his length all over again and all over again I marveled. The skin was so soft, and yet the appendage was so very stiff. As I pulled and stroked, I couldn't help but be fascinated by how he was constructed. As I stroked down, his skin would shift and the most delightfully peaked crown would emerge from the circular flap of skin that normally encompassed it. That tip looked so succulent, so juicy that I could actually sense myself salivating, which made no sense at all. I was not sitting down to supper, after all. Still, if Hatter could put his mouth on me in all sorts of otherwise forbidden areas, then I could certainly just take a little taste.

Elderberries. And the moment I found that out, with just the tip of my tongue, mind, I heard his very sharp intake of breath and then nothing. His entire body was tense, but I don't believe he was breathing anymore. I looked up to see if I had done something terribly wrong - or perhaps terribly right - and his expression looked tortured. I still couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

"Tarrant?" I asked softly, not having removed my lips so very far from him that I'm sure he could feel the air move. I held him firmly in one hand and rubbed his hip as I waited for some sort of response I could understand.

I watched as his entire frame shuddered.

"Don't... _stop..." _was his soft whisper. "Don't... _ever... _stop..."

I smiled at him, then, and kept his gaze as I darted my tongue out to taste him again. I watched in fascination as his eyes rolled back into his head and his breathing increased. I looked back down toward my explorations after that, however. Licking, kissing, nibbling all up and down the thick length of him took quite a lot of time, as I wanted to miss nothing. There were all sorts of interesting ridges and things and it did so bring such delight to him. My exploration of the sack behind was almost as fruitful. It really was a funny thing. It seemed as if there were two very sensitive balls inside the furry container. I amused myself for quite some time, holding them gently and moving them in my hand.

"Alice, love," Hatter groaned out whilst I was still having my amusements. "Do something for me?" His tone was pinched and strained and I wondered if perhaps I shouldn't be having quite so much fun. I wondered if perhaps this wasn't quite as enjoyable for him as I'd thought.

"Anything at all, Tarrant. Name it." I took my hands away from him and sat up on my heels.

"Oh, no, no, no, don't go away. Come back here, just as you were."

I did as he asked and felt his hands rubbing the tops of my shoulders as I lay my chin on his hip. I watched him, propped slightly up on the pillows. He caught his breath and spoke again.

"I would like for you to take those beautiful lips and wrap them around the tip of my Madness. Suck him inside of you. Let your tongue swirl and dance. Will you try that?"

I grinned at him. "And here I was thinking you didn't want me to touch you any longer."

He started to say something, but I was quickly upon him.

Elderberries. Tarrant tasted of elderberries. His skin did, of course and faintly, but it was ever so much stronger here. I sucked and swirled and Hatter's groans were loud now, the loudest I'd heard from him yet, and they filled the room.

"Alice, _Alice!" _His fingers kneaded my shoulders and I hummed happily in response, thrilled to be able to give this to him. "Oh, yes, _yes, __**yes! **__So close! Harder, just a little..." _ And then his groans were indistinct again, not words at all, but loud emanations of his delirious passion. His body was rigid then, and the Madness twitched and suddenly my mouth was filled with a thick elderberry wine which I eagerly swallowed. It was as well I did so, because the Madness released very quickly first one mouthful, then another, then another. I felt greedy, to be swallowing anything so quickly as all of that, but there was little alternative. I just took it for granted that Hatter would not look down on me for having bad manners, given the state of bliss he was in just now.

Soon enough the Madness became too sensitive and Hatter pulled me up toward him. stretched out at his side, snug up next to him, our arms and legs all wrapped up in one another, my head on his pillow.

"Tarrant," I started quietly.

"Hmm?" His eyes were closed and I wondered if he was falling asleep.

"I think I love you."

"When you make up your mind, let me know," he said softly.

Though he was breathing deeply and seemed every bit as boneless and relaxed as I had been when he'd finished with me, he also seemed quite aware and not nearing slumber as I had previously thought. After many long moments, I felt his left hand stroking me side.

"Darling," I started softly. "What has happened to your thumb?"

Hatter drew out his right thumb and looked at it, turning it about, and I could see very plainly that there was nothing significantly disturbed about it. "Much the same as it ever was. Why do you ask?"

"Your other thumb, Hatter."

"Oh, yes. Quite." He held up his left hand that, along with sporting two thimbles on the tips of fingers, also held a miraculously clean looking bandage on his thumb that I know he'd gotten wet twice, but was now curiously dry. His fingernails seemed less yellowed than before, I noted. "It was _that_ day," he said, refusing to use the compendium's name for the day. "The day the Bloody Big Head broke up our party, overthrew the White Queen. She burned our houses. She killed most of the Hightopp clan. She broke my thumb. I think the cards were going for my whole hand, but there's incompetence for you. If they'd known what they were about, they would have tried to take out my right hand. Bloody idiots."

Without realizing it, I found myself caressing him, his chest, his hand. I was horrified. The Hightopp clan. He'd mentioned them before. It... it must have been his family. Tarrant Hightopp - that _would_ be his name. And his entire family had been murdered by the Red Queen. No wonder he'd lost his composure when I'd reminded him of it while he was still her prisoner, and yet happily working at his craft. Perhaps he hasn't worked since that day. Perhaps he didn't have a house, or a workshop after all. How could he have done so if he'd always been at Tea?

"You... I... but that was so long ago. Why do you still wear it? Is it not healed?"

"For long and even longer, no, it was not healed. But I think perhaps now, it is beginning to do just that."

I got the impression that he wasn't only talking about his hand.

"Many things are changing, are they not?" I asked.

"They are indeed, my Alice. They are, indeed."

_The End. _


End file.
